


My Very Existence is a Monument

by Snow



Category: Aladdin (1992)
Genre: Community: lgbtfest, Disney, F/M, Happy Ending, POV First Person, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-02
Updated: 2010-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-09 06:12:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snow/pseuds/Snow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living on the streets meant Aladdin was used to making his own rules, but his relationship with Jasmine means that it's suddenly an issue that he was born in a female body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Very Existence is a Monument

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to rhap_chan for the beta. All remaining errors are mine. Title comes from a lyric from Los Campesinos!

Fact: My father left before I remember, and my mother died when I was two.

Fact: All underfed children look similar, and when people see 'scruffy' they think 'male'.

Fact: It's easier to be a young man on the streets of Agrabah than it is to be a young woman.

* * *

I expect the breasts. I have a plan ready to implement long before they actually show up.

The bleeding, though, scares me so much. I don't expect it. It's only luck that I overheard some of the women complaining about their time of the month shortly after the first time mine started. With the comforting idea that this might be normal, I go to Keriman, who's a little older than me.

Keriman's tough, much tougher than I am. She would never hide the way I do. It would never occur to her to.

"What do you want to know for?" she asks.

I sigh but it's easy to recall the lie I'd decided on. "I overheard Selen panicking over it. She said, I think, that she hadn't done anything impure." Only in my case I'm pretty sure I have.

Keriman's face goes shuttered, even more so than usual. "I can talk to her."

I'm surprised. Keriman can't usually spare more than a couple of minutes for other people, and she doesn't even know Selen. "You don't have to," I say and she starts to frown at me. "Really," I say. "You don't. Just, it's normal, right?"

She sighs. "Tell her to buy some cloths," Keriman says. "And she should be prepared for it to happen once a month for the rest of her life. Unless she's pregnant. Tell her not to get pregnant."

I nod and start to leave. "Thanks," I say.

"Aladdin?" she calls after me, "I'm trusting you. If you make her do anything-"

I throw up my hands in an attempt at placation.

"They will never find all the parts of you."

I nod and slip away from her glare.

* * *

There are times, of course, that I wish I could be like Selen or Keriman. In many ways, it would be easier. I'm old enough and strong enough to take care of myself now, just like they can. But in so many other ways I can't do that. I can look at Keriman and admire her. She's beautiful and fierce and wonderful. But I don't remotely see myself in her. I see myself in me.

In the boy I've always pretended I am.

* * *

I love sitting above the marketplace with Abu, watching everyone go about their morning business. Up here, it doesn't matter which of me is the reality and which is the illusion. It doesn't matter that I don't have a plan like Selen does to get out of here. The morning is my time to just take what's thrown at me.

Most of the time my mornings end with a chase by the guards. I try not to worry too much about that before it happens. The guards tend not to be too successful at catching me.

Today, though, something about the marketplace feels different. Abu senses it too, even if he seems more annoyed by my distraction than anything else.

It's the girl wandering from booth to booth. She's special.

I tell myself I'm staring because she's out of place, but the truth is simply that she's beautiful.

* * *

I don't usually find naiveté endearing. Worth protecting, yes, but not really all the interesting to me. This girl is different.

Once I step in to help her I don't want to step away from her again.

I can't leave her on the streets where she might be killed, so I bring her back to my home, where I've never let anyone in before. It would be too easy for someone to find out my secrets here, but I suddenly don't care much about that. I almost want her to know, so I don't have to worry about disappointing her later. And maybe these inappropriate feelings I'm having for her will go away when I remind myself I was supposed to be female.

I'm so focused on my own secrets I didn't notice that she belongs here, in the role she's taken on, even less than I do.

* * *

Despite the life I lead, most of the time I manage to keep myself out of prison. It's a dangerous place to be no matter who you are, yes, but it's particularly dangerous for me.

It's a harrowing half hour before Abu sets my hands free and I can fix my clothes and hair so I don't feel like my body is screaming 'girl' anymore.

He mocks me before letting me go, and I can't really blame him for it. I'm such an idiot.

Once I've gotten that taken care of and I'm sitting on the cold stone floor, I still can't stop thinking of the Princess. She was beautiful, in a way I don't have any desire to be. It is enough that there is such beauty in the world, even if I'll never see her again.

I'm not particularly sure if I want to see her again. She's a reminder of what doesn't work about my life.

Besides, she deserves someone better than me.

* * *

There's something off about the man in the prison, and it's not just his smell. It's like he's not comfortable with the dimensions of his body. It makes him look almost as ridiculous and edgy as I do when I try to figure out what I look like when I try to stop looking like a boy. (The answer is not really anything like a girl, which I manage to find amusing most of the time.)

The man promises that if I have enough gold I could marry the Princess. Maybe he's right, though I doubt it. Either way, staying in the prison and waiting for the guards to come back isn't really an option; I'd rather not stay here long enough that I have to go to the bathroom.

* * *

I've actually never been out in the desert before. Not much reason to.

Being in it now, I think I made the right decision before. There isn't much time to worry about that, though, because there's a giant cave that promises to get me out of the sand whipping into my eyes and the old man is shoving me towards it.

The cave makes me a little uneasy, yes, but that's nothing compared to how insane it's making Abu act. I don't understand it. He's a monkey, yes, but that doesn't define him. He might not see the point of behaving himself all the time, but he doesn't usually bounce off the walls either.

Apparently he's afraid of the magic carpet, and I'd mock him for it if I didn't see real fear in his eyes and if we didn't have rules about what strings we can and cannot pull. Instead, I try to show him that there's nothing to be afraid of.

When Abu starts yelling, though, I have to step in. After all, in addition to looking harmless the magic carpet is, well, _magic_, and I could use more of that in my life. Plus, it probably knows the cave better than I do, and the sooner I get out of here and back to the city, the better.

* * *

I assign the magic carpet a male identity without realizing that's what I'm doing. I don't think he objects, but I don't know if I would recognize it if he did.

* * *

When I see the lamp at the top of the long staircase, I can understand why the old man wanted it. Anything that has been set apart like that must be worth it. Like the Princess, only I didn't even know she was the Princess when we met, so I can't dismiss her position as being responsible for my attraction.

The staircase is long enough and the steps are uneven enough that it takes all my attention to not slip down it.

I'm far from impressed by the lamp itself. I guess if the old man wants it, he can have it.

* * *

Lesson learned: don't trust sketchy men who approach me in prison.

I'll remember that if I survive the next twenty seconds.

* * *

When the carpet runs and hides behind a rock, I'm pretty sure I've made a mistake.

Then there's a giant blue...man and I'm pretty sure I must be hallucinating.

Who am I kidding, I'm not that lucky. Of course he's going to be real.

He also recognizes the carpet as male (if the tag "rug-man" is anything to go by), and that makes me think more. The idea of anyone having an argument over a magic carpet's gender seems ridiculous, and there's certainly nothing that would make him female. On the other hand, what does it mean to say a _carpet_ is male?

* * *

The giant blue man is scary, confusing and hilarious all at once, but he's also clearly magical so when he says "He can be taught" I feel like I've passed some kind of test. I don't know why I care, it's not like it really makes a difference what one giant blue man says. It's not like he makes me actually a boy.

I try to clamp down on that thought, but it's one I've had too many times before to pretend. I'm pretty sure that other people knowing that I think of myself as male wouldn't help me if they found out I'd been dressing as one without having the parts. But they don't ever need to find out.

I've always been afraid of what would happen when I fall in love, since I've had a low-level crush on Keriman for years but nothing I felt compelled to act on. I guess I'm lucky that the girl I fell in love with is beyond unattainable.

* * *

"Right here for your enjoyment and wish fulfillment. Thank you."

"Whoa," I say. "Wish fulfillment?" I'm trying not to be excited.

"Three wishes," the Genie says, and if he's for real I only need one. But I can't afford to let myself hope.

He says he's the answer to my prayers, though, and he just might be.

* * *

"There's this girl," I say, and that wasn't what I had thought I would say. I don't know why I'm talking about Princess Jasmine, but it occurs to me that getting out of the cave didn't have to be the only request from the Genie I would be clever about.

"Can you make me a prince?" I ask, and he says yes.

* * *

He's dancing around me, only changing my clothing, and I'm thinking maybe he doesn't have that kind of power, until he turns Abu into an elephant.

"He's got the outfit, he's got the elephant, 'cause we're not through yet," the Genie says, and I close my eyes and hope.

* * *

"Genie," I say when he's indicated he's finished, and I'm going to add something about how he hasn't made me a prince. He just changed the trappings, leaving my body unchanged. How am I supposed to be a prince without the education, the land, and without the body parts?

He looks so wary, though, and I can't bring myself to say any of it. I'm sure he knows.

I'm not surprised enough by this turn of events to be disappointed. I guess I never believed it could be that easy.

Prayers don't get answered like that.

* * *

I'm still biting my lip and trying to look pleased when the parade starts, with me at the center of it.

And the parade is fun, don't get me wrong. Someone would have to be a good deal colder than I am to avoid being swept up in first the Genie's enthusiasm, then the Sultan's.

* * *

Jasmine is just as beautiful as I remembered her being, and it suddenly occurs to me that I'm here, and I have a chance with her, unless I just blew it.

Ordinarily that might be for the best, but I'm getting dangerous vibes off of Jafar, the Sultan's advisor. I can't afford for him to find out about me, but I also don't think I can leave Jasmine with him. Particularly if I heard right and he'll marry her if she can't find a suitable husband. That's just...gross.

* * *

"Tell her the truth," the Genie says.

I want to say: "I don't know what the truth _is_," but even that's not true. The reality is that no one really wants the truth about me. It will only confuse and upset them.

Instead I say: "If Jasmine found out I was only some crummy...street rat, she'd laugh." And then her father would probably have me executed or something.

But my worries about Jafar and my desire to see her again, despite the dangers, are eating away at me, so I step on the magic carpet and hope for the best.

* * *

My fears about not letting Jasmine know that she's met me before are part and parcel of the importance of not letting her know my sex. I feel like if I let her crack open my prince facade it will all come tumbling out. I've never felt like telling anyone before, and it terrifies me to know that it matters to me that she knows the truth.

And of course, I can't assume that she knows that I want to trust her, and that I love her. I'm an idiot to think she can pick up on those feelings, so when she asks me to leave, I do.

Then she calls me back and I ask her "Do you trust me?" because I really want to know if I can trust her.

Even though it's already much too late for me to do anything else.

* * *

The goodnight kiss she gives leaves me floating in feeling of love and happiness, until hands grab at me and my clothing.

I've never been so scared in my life.

* * *

I fall a hands-breadth from the lamp, or what would be a hands-breadth if my hands weren't tied behind my back, as tightly bound as my breasts are.

It takes all my energy to get to the lamp, but then the Genie is there and it's all going to be alright. Even if it'll take my last wish.

* * *

I return to the palace as soon as I finish thanking the Genie and changing my clothing, only to see Jafar making the moves on Jasmine. I was right. I need to be here to protect her from him. Jafar's in too close to the Sultan for anyone else to be able to stop him.

If I can get rid of Jafar maybe then she'll be safe, though I wish we could actually be together.

He's not that easy to get rid of, but before I have a chance to second-guess myself I'm holding Jasmine and her father is talking about her finding a suitor. They can't be talking about me, can they? Oh _shit_.

* * *

Genie's all excited about this, but I have to tell Jasmine the truth. The full truth. She _can't_ marry me. I can't be Sultan, but even more importantly, she can't marry me. I love her, but she could never love me back. Not the way she thinks she does now.

I'm going to be selfish, yes, but I'm not going to use my third wish to free Genie when there's a chance I could still use it to free myself.

Of course I feel bad about putting Genie through that.

I'll talk with the Princess.

If she still feels like she loves me when I've told her the truth, I'll use my last wish to actually make me a prince, or at least have all the parts a prince ought to have.

And if she feels hurt and betrayed and doesn't want anything to do with me, then I may as well set Genie free. At least then someone won't be made miserable by my existence. Though it might be too late for that.

* * *

_Jafar doesn't know._ It's not really the answer to my prayers, but it's maybe a sign that Allah hasn't been ignoring them completely. Of course, it means I'll still have to work up the courage to tell Jasmine everything, but right now it's looking like I won't survive this, so that's not one of my main concerns.

I can't leave Jasmine, her father and Genie behind under Jafar's power. I have to go back and set things right.

* * *

It hurts to see Jasmine sucking up to Jafar, even though I know she's only doing it to provide a distraction for me and many of her compliments are frankly ridiculous. Still, now I know that no matter what happens in the next hour, I did the right thing in coming back. Unless I get Jasmine killed. Then I'm just an idiot.

It does occur to me that I might be able to get Jafar to use his magic to turn me male without even realizing he's doing it, but not with the other constraints I'm under, like saving Jasmine.

* * *

I saved the day, I guess. Now it's time to put the rest of Jasmine's life right, now that I don't need to block Jafar anymore. The best thing to do for her is to let her get as angry at me as she wants, but I can't do that. I still think I can make her understand.

* * *

"Jasmine," I say, "Can I talk to you alone?"

"Of course," she replies.

"I'm sorry I lied to you about being a prince," I say, "But that's not all I lied about."

"I don't understand," she says.

"That's a good place to start," I answer. "I lied about being a boy in the marketplace. My parents had a daughter. I'm...I was supposed to be her."

Jasmine frowns at me. "You're saying what exactly?" she asks.

"I have the physical parts of a woman," I say.

"Oh," she says, "That's-"

"I know. I'm sorry. Goodbye."

"Wait," she says, and I almost don't, because I know she can't mean it.

"I need some time to think about this," Jasmine says. "Like maybe my whole life."

It's my turn to say, "I don't understand."

"I need to get to know you better," she says. "But I still like what I've seen so far. I _love_ you," she says, "And you're still the person you were five minutes ago."

Genie offers to give up his freedom. "You're not going to find another girl like her in a million years," he says, and I can so easily believe him. Still, I've thought about it, and I can't keep him trapped for the sake of my happiness.

Genie says I'll always be a prince to him, and it means so much to me.

"That's right," the Sultan says, "You've certainly proven your worth as far as I'm concerned."

I start to object, because I don't want him to find out later that I never stopped lying, but Jasmine places her hand on my arm, quieting me.

Then the Sultan offers to do what only he can: change the law. "From this day forth, the princess will marry whomever she deems worthy," he says, managing, quite by accident I'm sure, to have it include me, no matter whom I really am.

"Him," Jasmine says, and I don't know whether she's using that pronoun to keep up the pretext with her father or because she understood everything about me in our thirty-second conversation, but we can talk about it later. We can talk about everything later, because she decided she wanted to.

I thought I loved her before but that can't have been true, because what I feel for her in this instant makes a mockery of every feeling I've ever had in the past.

* * *

Fact: My father left before I remember, and my mother died when I was two.

Fact: All underfed children look similar, and when people see 'scruffy' they think 'male'.

Fact: It's easier to be a young man on the streets of Agrabah than it is to be a young woman.

Fact: None of that is why I am who I am.

**Author's Note:**

> I welcome and appreciate all kinds of comments, though I would (obviously) prefer if any criticism was constructive. :)


End file.
